After the Sun Sets
by claw06
Summary: Following the death of Negan, the survivors awaken to find themselves in a world only a month away from the beginning of the End. Can they save those important to them and teach them to survive in the world they know, all while dealing with their personal demons? Or are they doomed to fail and lose them a second time? Jeryl
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** Following the death of Negan, the survivors awaken to find themselves in a world only a month away from the beginning of the End. Can they save those important to them and teach them to survive in the world they know, all while dealing with their personal demons? Or are they doomed to fail and lose them a second time?

 **WARNINGS/ TAGS** **: Canon-typical violence; Het; Slash; Torture; Mentions of Torture; Mostly Daryl-centric with chapters focusing on others; William Dixon's A+ parenting; He gets better; Good! Merle;** **SPOILERS** **(S1-S6); Dark themes; Mentions of Non-con; Mentions of child abuse; Suicidal thoughts; PTSD;** **TRIGGER** **WARNINGS!**

* * *

 **Chapter One**

Negan.

He was tall and muscular, his lean frame clothed in a thick leather jacket, worn jeans and a scarf and his dark hair cropped close to his head. Amusement and rage glittered in his dark eyes and for the first time in a long time, Daryl Dixon was afraid.

He wasn't afraid for himself, hadn't been since the first time he had seen his daddy take a belt to Merle's back, but he _was_ afraid for his family. They were tired and hungry and, if he were reading Rick and Carl right, _**furious.**_ His leader was trembling at Negan's feet, darkness clawing its way to the surface with every passing second and Daryl couldn't help the icy trills of terror it sent down his spine because he knew one thing was certain, Negan and his men wouldn't survive the night.

A sharp pain shot through his side and he bit back a gasp of pain, unwilling to alert the predators around him that he was easier prey than they thought. He wouldn't give them that satisfaction.

"This here is Lucille," Negan purred, holding up a wooden bat wrapped in barbed wire, and Daryl swallowed thickly watching as the man prowled down the line, stopping on him.

"And tonight, one of you will have the immense pleasure of getting to know her _personally._ " He paused, a dark smirk crossing his lips when Daryl looked away from him. Lucille tapped his lips and he could almost hear the snarl that crossed Rick's at the gesture. He glanced over at his leader, his brother in everything but blood, and pleaded for him to stay calm. He didn't mind taking one for the team, not if it kept them all safe.

The spiked bat came down hard on the side of his face, just below his eye, and he couldn't help the cry that escaped him as the barbs sliced into his flesh and his jaw shattered.

"Daryl!" Someone screamed, probably Maggie if he was hearing right, but he didn't dare look, keeping his gaze locked on Negan from his place on the ground.

The man reached out, calloused fingers brushing the burning cuts with a child-like curiosity before he sighed in mock pity.

"What a shame, to have to mar such a pretty face. You don't mind, right?" He taunted and Daryl glared at him, crying out when the man brought Lucille down once more and struck his shoulder.

"Watch yourself, beautiful. Anymore dirty looks and I'll rip those pretty blue eyes right outta your head and feed them to the little cyclops over there, understood?"

The hunter didn't respond, slim form trembling in as agony ripped through him from various parts of his body. Negan sighed again, as if put upon and brought the bat down again, and again, and _again._ Blow after blow rained down over him, the barbs cutting into his skin like thousands of little knives. He screamed, or at least he thought he did, but he could barely hear it over the sound of everyone else's pleas for the man to stop and the agony searing his battered body.

Black spots darkened his vision, and he coughed wetly, the coppery taste of blood on his tongue and playful blue eyes flashing in his minds eye. Still, he forced himself to stay awake through the beating, biting his lip to stop the cries that wanted to escaped.

"Enough!" Rick roared and the blows stopped. "He's had enough. Please, he can't take anymore."

* * *

Negan stared down at the bloodied form at his feet, taking in the way the blood seemed to enhance the beauty the man had already possessed and frowned inwardly. When Gabriel had told him about the group that had taken out Terminus, then taken over Alexandria, he had failed to mention the man at his feet. In fact, he had given detailed explanations on everyone but this man. The only things he knew was that the man was proficient in killing walkers, he was extremely loyal to Rick Grimes, and his weapon of choice was the crossbow currently slung over Dwight's shoulder. The priest hadn't told him anything else and he wondered why, when the man had even told him of the two year old little girl in the group. Reaching out, he gripped the slim form by the hair and pulled, forcing the man's face up, and to his surprise the kid was still awake.

Pain-filled, _defiant_ storm blue eyes met his and he couldn't stop the trill of lust it sent through him. This man was strong. Dangerously so.

"What's your name?" He asked curiously, even though he'd heard the sick girl cry it out before. He wanted to know if the boy would answer.

His captive's thin blood-stained lips curled into an impressive sneer before the man answered reluctantly.

"Daryl."

Negan hummed, looking over at Grimes, who was staring at the bloodied beauty with pain in his eyes. Lovers perhaps?

"What's your job?"

Daryl didn't answer, so he tried another method. Gesturing for Dwight to come forward he watched impassively as the man aimed the archer's crossbow at the little cyclops.

"Tell me or the little thief will loses his other eye."

"Scavenger, hunter."

The older man's eyebrows shot up. It was hard to find true hunters in this day and age. Most of the people before were city folk and knew nothing of the forest. Hell, he still couldn't hunt to save his life and he didn't have any hunters in his group. They mostly got by on canned food and meat they got from the people on the hilltop.

A gunshot sounded and he frowned Dwight went down from a bullet to the brain. Not even a second later, another shot rang out, then another, and his men began to drop like flies. A dark, bloody smile crossed his captive's lips, eyes glazing over.

" Jesus." The boy whispered, eyes sliding closed and Negan scowled throwing him to the ground, turning only to gasp as a sharp pain bloomed in his chest.

He glared at the perpetrator, the hilltop idiot with the long hair, only to find the man standing behind him gun raised and fury in his grey-green eyes. The man fired off again and again and then Negan's gaze went black.

* * *

Paul bit his lip harshly as Negan's corpse fell on top of Daryl's broken form, paying no mind to the chaos around him. He absently noticed Rick approaching, covered in the blood of Negan's men, but he ignored him, kneeling and gathering the archer in his arms. Cuts, marred the hunter's smooth skin, the deeper ones leaving his skin slick with blood and dark bruises bloomed all over him, and he could see that at least four of his bones were broken.

His love looked horrible.

A soft whimper escaped the beauty's lips and he let out a bloodied cough, hazy eyes fluttering open to meet his.

"Hey there, darlin'."

"T-tol' ya not ta call me tha'." The other replied weakly, gasping in pain moments later. His hand went to his side and Paul followed it, biting back tears when he felt the gunshot wound hiding under the blanket around his lover.

Rick kneeled beside him and took Daryl's other hand.

"How ya doin', brother?"

Daryl shook his head. "Ain' good, Rick. Ain' good."

"You'll live through this. I need you," He smiled, "are you with me?"

The hunter smirked. "Ya…ya be-better g-get me h-home to m-my l-lil…Asskicker."

Paul choked out a laugh, wondering who Lil Asskicker was but unable to ask as his lover slipped into unconsciousness.

He stood, his precious cargo cradled in his arms, and turned to see Rick watching him with curiosity in his gaze.

"After we get them treated. Me 'n you are gonna have a _long_ talk."

Paul swallowed thickly.

Somehow, despite his nickname, he really didn't feel like Jesus and he did _not_ want to be left alone with Rick Grimes.

Looking into the man's darkened eyes, his heart sank and he realized that he really didn't have a choice.

* * *

"How long?"

Jesus shifted beside him, ducking his head shyly and Rick fought back a smile.

"About three weeks. Took a week of me pestering him to finally get him to agree. And another week before he realized I was serious about him."

They were back behind the walls of Alexandria, sitting on the porch of the makeshift hospital as the Hilltop doctor treated Daryl. The man had forced them out of the room after taking one look at them and they hadn't been barred entry until he was finished. The others were all off in their own homes, barring Maggie who was also inside being treated for the miscarriage scare she'd suffered. Luckily, they'd found that the baby was fine, although she needed more food and a stress free environment.

"Daryl's been hurt, and badly. When I met him in the beginning of this he was so jaded and hardened by the world that he refused to get close to anyone for fear of being hurt. If I could I would go back and force everyone that hurt him to _see_ how wonderful he is. How caring and protective he can be over those he calls his own. He's my brother, Paul, and if you hurt him in anyway…you won't live long enough to regret it."

Paul didn't say anything at first, thinking on what had been said. Then he smiled a small, sincere smile, more genuine than any of the others Rick had seen on his face.

"You don't have to fear for his heart with me, Rick. But know if I hurt Daryl, I will gladly hand myself over."

He stood and turned back to the house.

"Oh, and Rick?"

The former deputy glanced at him.

"Yeah?"

"I wish we could back and show them too. Maybe then, he won't be as broken as he is now."

This said he entered the house and slipped past the doctor and into his lover's room, smiling as he saw the man sleeping peacefully with a small infant lying beside him. He kissed the archer's brow chastely.

"I wish they could see you as you are now. Maybe then you would see how wonderful you truly are. "

Unbeknownst to the two men a star flew across the sky at that moment and when they awakened the next morning…their lives would be changed forever.

 **TBC…**

* * *

 **A/N: This chapter kinda ran away from me, Lol. Hope you liked it and remember, R &R.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I can't remember a lot about Jesus's canon boyfriend so I made up one, lol. Don't worry he won't be around long.**

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

He awakened to the feel of a soft bed beneath him and lean arms wrapped around his waist, the scent of cinnamon and apples wafting up from his companion and causing him to frown and stiffen.

Daryl hated fruity soaps with a passion. He made sure to always bathe with soap with more woodsy scents. The fact that Daryl couldn't have moved to bathe without his knowing also filtered into his mind and with that he jolted into a sitting position, startling his bedmate.

The man beside him was frighteningly familiar with his tightly corded muscle, short blonde hair and wide green eyes, his pale skin marred by a myriad of tattoos and free of scars. He was staring at him with same wide-eyed look that he knew was on his own face.

Adrian.

His boyfriend of two years who had been killed in the first week of the apocalypse. A man he had put down after the Turn, who he'd _grieved_ for and cried over.

He sat next to him, _alive_ and _healthy_ , missing the jaded gleam he become used to seeing in the eyes of the other survivors.

He looked down at his self, noting with no small amount of relief that he hadn't changed from at all. He was still the same man he'd been when he'd gone to bed, right down to the black leather boots cladding his feet and the gloves on his hands.

Probably why Adrian seemed so confused.

He sighed quietly.

He'd come to grips to the man's death a long, _long_ time ago and he knew without a shadow of doubt that his heart belonged to the broken hunter of Alexandria. He just had to find him first. Adrian's voice drew him from his thoughts.

"You weren't wearing that when you went to bed." The blonde paused and frowned. "You didn't _look_ like that when you went to bed. Paul, what the hell is going on?"

There was panic hidden in the younger man's eyes as he spoke and Paul gave another sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

His…ex-boyfriend scowled at him, pouty lips pressed into a thin line.

"Try me."

He stared at the man, then smirked.

"Three years ago, the world went to shit. A virus awakened in people making it to where the dead just wouldn't _stay_ _dead_ and anyone that was bit or scratched them was pretty much screwed."

Adrian bit his lip, while Paul paused to let him take in that information.

"There wasn't anything like that on the news." He said and the older man nodded.

"That because it hasn't happened yet."

"But yo-"

"Said three years _ago_ , yeah. I- I'm pretty sure I've traveled back in time."

A single blonde brow rose, it's owner's blue eyes incredulous.

"That's the best excuse you have?" He sneered, "because despite your nickname I'm pretty sure that's impossible."

"The dead were _walking_ , Adrian! You died and for fucks sake, I mourned for you! I nearly killed myself because you were _gone._ It took me almost three years to open my heart again and then this happened!"

Adrian stared at him for a moment, taking in the old grief in his lover's eyes, the muscles that were much more prominent than they had been only the night before and the darkness dancing in those robin's egg blues, their honesty so cold it almost burned.

"Oh my god…"He breathed, horrified and Paul gave a broken laugh, tears welling in his eyes as he thought back to the night before and the horrific sight of Negan's bat striking his archer again and _again,_ painting his flesh with bruises and lacerations like and artist with a fresh canvas.

Adrian had no idea just how horrific the world had become and he envied him.

He wanted to save that innocence, gods did he want to save it…but to do so would cost Adrian his life. His eyes glanced over at the calendar hanging on the wall across from him.

August 17, 20XX.

The last new report to ever air was on September 30, before the dead had overrun the news station. The first time around, it had taken the dead less than a day to overwhelm the world after taking out the quarantines and he knew this time would be no different. This meant he had a little more than a month to prepare…and to find his hunter.

"Who were you expecting?"

He blinked at the blunt question, wondering how Adrian had known he expected anyone really. His thoughts must've shown plainly because his former lover smiled sadly.

"You didn't move until you caught my scent, Paul. Its like you were expecting someone to be there…just not me."

Paul shook his head, a flash of Daryl's broken form passing through his mind's eye.

Not yet.

Not until he knew his boyfriend was okay.

He couldn't speak about him just yet.

* * *

What. The. Fuck?

Merle stared blankly at the duo laying in his brother's bed, taking in the familiar beauty mark marring the skin above the older one's lip, and the tattoo of their mother's name inked across the man's chest.

Long dark brown hair fell into a familiar face, older and harsher than the one he was used to, thick scars marring one side as if someone had slapped him across the face with the sharp end of a bear trap. He slept curl around his companion like he was shielding her from the world, the little toddler gripping his vest in her tiny hands as she slept soundly.

Had he not been in this room and awake the entire time, he'd have questioned his own, already questionable sanity. As it stood, however, he knew he had watched the little toddler appear out of no where and watched as his little brother seemed to age rapidly before his eyes.

This said, he couldn't wait until Daryl awakened and he figured out just what the hell was happening.

And how they would explain the little girl to their Pa…without him killing them.

* * *

This couldn't be possible.

Carl stared up at his mother, his _dead_ mother blankly, taking in the familiar warmth of her smile and the slight waves in her hair. It was almost as if the past three years hadn't happened but the patch over his eye spoke different, as did the echoes of Daryl's screams as Negan's bat came down on him and the familiar echo of rage singing in his blood. So what the hell was happening?

His mother stared at him with the same shock, her doe brown eyes full of worry as she took in the patch over where his right eye should've been, the hardened lines of his face, and the long dark hair reaching his shoulders.

This wasn't the same little boy she'd sent off to bed the night before. No this boy, this cold, _angry_ boy was not her happy baby boy.

"C-Carl?" She whispered and he backed away from her.

"Y-you're not real. You're gone."

She reached for him and he jerked away from her, hand going to the gun in his belt for comfort. Lori gasped as she saw it.

"What do you mean? What happened to your eye? Why do you have a gun. Carl, what's going on?"

He shook his head roughly, growling frustrated when his eyes began to tear up.

It had been so long since he'd had a dream like this and he often wondered what his mother would think of him if she'd seen what he'd become. If she'd seen what he'd done. In fact, since coming to Alexandria and taking care of Judith, seeing his baby sister smile and giggle as if the world wasn't ending around them, it made those dreams go away.

He had bigger things to focus on, like keeping her safe, and he couldn't afford to get caught up in the past.

So why was he having this dream?

And why did his heart hurt so much?

Thin, strong arms wrapped around him and he closed his eye, as the painfully familiar scent of her Jasmine scented perfume enclosed him, the tears burning his eye as they fought to fall.

"I don't know what's going on," She whispered and he tensed. "But I know you're hurting. It's okay to let it all out. Mama's here." She crooned and a broken sob left his lips without his consent, followed by another and another, until he was crying out all the grief and anger he kept locked inside for years. He cried for what could've been hours, slowly calming until he lay drained in her arms and all the while, she merely stroked his hair, unnervingly calm.

For a moment, no one spoke…then the phone rang.

She shifted and pulled her phone from her pocket, noting the way her son stared at it like it was an alien object. She filed it away for further questioning and answered.

"Hello?"

" _Hello, Mrs. Grimes. It's Dr. Richards. I'm over your husband's care at Kings County Medical."_

"Is he alright?"

The doctor hesitated for a moment. _"Ma'am…your husband woke up."_

* * *

 _ **They were kneeling and he was terrified.**_

 _ **One of them would die tonight and while he didn't fear for his own life, he feared for the lives of his family.**_

 _ **Negan was smirking, prowling down the line with Lucille clasped like a lover in his hand. For some reason, he knew that not all the fear racing through his blood was for his family, some of it was for himself.**_

 _ **The bat came down in front of each of them and he fought not to tremble. Once, twice, thrice like clockwork, Negan went around, pointing the bat in each of their faces, his men jeering and laughing at the fear and anger on their faces.**_

 _ **The bat stopped on him and triumph flashed in the man's dark eyes.**_

 _ **This here is Lucille," Negan purred, holding up a wooden bat wrapped in barbed wire, and Daryl swallowed thickly watching as the man prowled down the line, stopping on him.**_

" _ **And tonight, one of you will have the immense pleasure of getting to know her personally." He paused, a dark smirk crossing his lips when Daryl looked away from him. Lucille tapped his lips and he could almost hear the snarl that crossed Rick's at the gesture. He glanced over at his leader, his brother in everything but blood, and pleaded for him to stay calm. He didn't mind taking one for the team, not if it kept them all safe.**_

 _ **The bat came down harshly, catching the side of his face, and shattering his jaw, leaving behind five deep cuts. His assailant reached forward and touched the wounds with a child-like curiosity and he flinched away, glaring at the man.**_

 _ **The bat came down again, harder, striking his shoulder, once more shattering the bone and shredding his skin.**_

 _ **Pain overloaded his mind and Negan spoke but he couldn't understand anything he said. Someone cried out his name but his jaw kept him from speaking. However, he knew that he'd missed something because the bat came down again and again and**_ **again.**

 _ **It struck his gunshot wound, ripping the wound wider and breaking more bones. He tried to curl into a fetal position to protect himself and when that didn't work…**_

 _ **He screamed.**_

 **TBC…**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

 _Pain overloaded his mind and Negan spoke but he couldn't understand anything he said. Someone cried out his name but his jaw kept him from speaking. However, he knew that he'd missed something because the bat came down again and again and again._

 _It struck his gunshot wound, ripping the wound wider and breaking more bones. He tried to curl into a fetal position to protect himself and when that didn't work…_

 _He screamed._

* * *

William 'Buck' Dixon was not a good man.

He drank too much, he smoked too much and had a temper hotter and shorter than anything on god's green earth.

This said, he also loved his children.

He didn't show it, he wasn't a feelings type of guy and he'd even beaten his youngest within an inch of his life more than a few times, but he loved his boys.

Daryl was their family's conscious with his mama's soft heart and gentle nature, something Buck had tried to beat outta the boy before the world could take advantage of it and break the little hunter into something he couldn't fix.

Merle was Daryl's protector, or he should've been, but harshened by the world and the things he'd seen in his short life, his eldest son chose to live in the fantasy world of drugs and alcohol trying to ignore to bruises and the pain his sibling faced.

He had failed his boys and he tried to avoid that failure by drinking himself into drunken rages that led to him passing out where ever he was when the alcohol kicked in and Daryl hiding himself in his room nursing bloody whip marks on his back. This was where the boy should have been so he couldn't comprehend what had caused the boy to scream like he had.

He opened the door to his sons' room and froze.

That wasn't Daryl.

The man in front of him was a few years older than his son, shaggy dark brown hair falling into a bewildered face, as the man shook and held the crying toddler with him close to his body. The only things familiar about him was the stormy grey blue eyes staring up at him, more wild than he'd ever seen them.

"Pa?" He rumbled, voice rough and choked with emotion. "Merle?"

Buck scowled at him and glanced over at Merle, hoping the boy wasn't harmed. He wasn't, but his grey eyes were wide and staring at the mystery man in shock.

"Who th' hell 're you n' where is m'boy?" The Dixon patriarch snarled and Merle turned to him, voice shaking.

"Pa…that _is_ Daryl."

Buck turned back to the man who was watching them like a wary mutt, one hand curled around his abdomen protectively, yet not hiding the scars marring his tanned skin.

"How old are you?" He barked and the man stared at him, something haunted in his eyes.

"Why? Y' ain't real anyway? G'on wake up any minute an' ya'll 're gonna be dead like y' was las' time."

The little girl in the man's arms shook her head.

"'s real, 'ryl." She said and the man stiffened.

Something broke in the man's gaze and Merle stood like he wanted to comfort him only to still when the man's head shot up.

"Pa." He repeated and there was something so inherently Daryl in his eyes that Buck lowered his gun, somehow knowing it would all be alright.

But the boy better start talking.

Now.

* * *

This couldn't be happening.

His heart was pounding a mile a minute, his vision greying at the edges and Negan's harsh laughter was ringing in his ears. His mind was racing, panic threatening to engulf him as he stared into the faces of the two most influential figures in his life, both of whom had been dead for years now.

It was only Lil Asskicker's trembling form in his arms that kept him from giving in to it.

" You Alright?" He rumbled softly to the toddler who nodded clutching his shirt in her tiny fist and peaking at the two men in front of them.

His Pa's eyes softened in a way he'd only seen them do for his mama and the man took a step forward. Daryl tensed.

"Boy," His father growled lowly, "What the _hell_ is going on?"

Judith whimpered, not used to the angry voices and Daryl's lips twisted into a snarl, eyes flashing.

"Cover yer ears, Lil Asskicker." He whispered and she did so, leaning against him trustingly.

Once he was sure she couldn't hear anything he swallowed.

"Daryl?" Merle questioned and Daryl shivered.

"How?" He whispered brokenly, looking at them with tears in his eyes. "How is this possible?"

Buck glared at him, but couldn't stop the fear and worry gathering in his heart for his youngest son.

"Explain."

Daryl bristled at the order, but the turmoil in his heart made him push aside the annoyance and anger to answer the older men.

"I should be dead." He rasped, shivering as he remembered the sharp barbs of Lucille tearing into his flesh over and over again. He remembered hearing his family crying out for him…and Jesus.

Jesus had saved him.

Negan was dead.

He should be happy, especially if what he was seeing and hearing was true, but all he could feel was a bone deep exhaustion that left him light headed.

Judith shifted restlessly, and his father's gaze hardened at his words, lips tightening.

"What th' hell are you talking about, boy?"

Daryl sighed then explained in a soft, hoarse voice, the future awaiting them, ending at their capture. He conveniently left out his relationship with Paul and his beating at the hands of Negan, storm colored hues watching their every facial expression.

Once he finished, he gestured for Judy to uncover her ears and sat her down only to gasp as thick arms wrapped him up in a tight embrace.

His father was hugging him, something the man had never done before, even when he was a child.

It felt nice. It felt like home.

Before becoming family with the other survivors, he'd never had a lot of positive physical contact. Even Merle limited his shows of affection to playful punches to the shoulder, or an arm thrown across his shoulder. Then there was Rick with his strange habit of hugging them all whenever they returned from a run like he was afraid to lose them and Jesus…well that was a can best left untouched.

For a moment it was silent, then Merle spoke.

"What're ya gonna do now?" He asked nonchalantly, as if he didn't care about Daryl's response, but his shoulders were tense.

Something fierce crossed his little brother's worn features.

"We need to get ready."

 **TBC…**

 **NXT: Rick's reunion with his family and Michonne awakens to a nasty surprise that may actually be good thing.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Lori wasn't sure what to expect when she arrived at the hospital after receiving the phone call she'd been hoping for and dreading for nearly a month. She had hoped Rick would wake up, had prayed for him to survive, even if she knew he would be angry, especially if he found out about her and Shane. Beside her, Carl was silent, his visible blue eye cold as he surveyed his surroundings. She'd forced him to shower before they left, and to leave his gun at home, but he'd slipped a knife into the waistband of his pants thinking she hadn't noticed.

She had and she couldn't help but wonder what had happened to him over night that seemed to turn him into the weary, world-worn creature that he was.

"Mrs. Grimes?" Dr. Richards called disrupting her thoughts and she turned, noting how Carl had tensed at his approach, eye darkening to watch the man wearily.

The doctor, himself, had a worn expression on his face, his green eyes perturbed, an expression she rarely saw on the young man's face.

"Adrian. Is he alright? You said he woke up?"

He nodded seriously. "He did. However, he was sedated shortly after because he tried to attack the nurse that changed his IV. I believe he was highly disoriented, however he will be waking soon if you would like to be there with him."

Lori nodded and he led her into the room.

She stilled, catching sight of the man in the bed.

Long dark curls fell to broad shoulders, slim frame clad in jeans and a white t-shirt, eyes rimmed red and lined with stress even in rest…this man couldn't be her husband.

Her Rick.

The door closing behind her, caused her to turn to Dr. Richards, her eyes wide and confused.

"Adrian?"

"That is Rick Grimes, Lori. If it's anything like my own morning, then he is three years older than he should be."

Beside her, Carl's gaze snapped from his father's prone form to pin the doctor in place.

"How do you know that?" He asked, suspicion lacing his words and Adrian let out a weary laugh.

"I'm assuming you followed them, considering you didn't look like that when I saw you a few days ago. Fuck…"

"I believe he asked a question." Rumbled a dark voice and the trio turned back to the man on the bed to find him watching them, blue eye weary and dangerous.

"I woke up to my boyfriend expecting someone else and his looking much older than he should. According to him I died in the beginning of the end."

Rick snorted.

"Be thankful. There are worse ways to live." He looked at Carl, avoiding Lori's gaze all together.

"Where's Judith."

The teen's face crumbled. "She was with Daryl, since we weren't sure…" Rick nodded, reaching for his son. To his surprise, the teen stepped into his arms, shaking slightly.

"Sh, he's alright. If nothing, Daryl is a fighter, son. He'd live just to prove to Negan that he could."

Carl laughed roughly, his grip on the older man tightening.

"I know. I _know_. But he was _screaming_ and it won't stop." He whispered brokenly and Rick closed his eyes, pained.

"I know." He replied and Lori swallowed thickly.

What had her boys gone through in their future? What was so horrible that her baby was this broken jaded boy and her husband was a dangerous weary man, his body tense like a cornered wounded animal? What had happened to her family?

Adrian's green eyes softened as he saw the turbulent emotions in the eyes of Lori Grimes, his own heart aching for the father and son duo in the hospital bed. Was this the future Paul had spoken of? A future when children are broken and hungry, where they are faced with death and agony beyond their years?

If it was, he couldn't help but think that it was good that the survivors had been brought back to a time before it all. Maybe, they would heal if only just a little bit.

* * *

"Mama! Mama, I'm home!"

Dark eyes shot open as a heart wrenchingly familiar voice rang out around their owner, the woman's heart stilling in her chest.

Joshua.

Her baby boy.

He'd been with her ex-husband when he died and it had shattered her when she'd gone to check on them to find the man as walker, elbow deep in their son's insides.

Her ex-husband had been her first kill and to this day she never regretted it.

He'd stolen her baby from her.

"Mama!" The voice called again and tears welled in her eyes as she sat up, body tensing when she realized she wasn't in the room that she'd fallen asleep in.

She was in her old bedroom, the walls a soft cream color, accented with dark blue borders. The spot beside her, where Rick should've been, was cold, as if he hadn't been there and she ached.

Dark dreadlocks fell into her face and she pushed them away, jolting when the door to her bedroom flew open, a small blur tackling her.

Smooth mocha skin, wide innocent brown eyes, small lips twisted into an adorable pout, her son was alive and safe in her arms and she smiled.

"Why weren't you answering me, mama?"

"I was asleep." She lied and he nodded sagely.

"Sleep is important." He lectured and she let out a broken laugh, nuzzling his soft dark hair.

"I know, baby." A tear slid down her cheek. "I know."

Thin arms wrapped around her and the seven-year-old smiled at her. She forced a smile back, knowing the second she left his sight that she would fall apart.

She had regained her son…but her family was gone.

* * *

Glenn jolted awake with a hoarse cry as his alarm sounded, the shrill ringing so remnant of his brother's screams that he nearly broke down crying.

Tears streamed down his sweat slicked cheeks and he knew if Daryl was awake he'd tell him to stop "all that pansy ass cryin'", but he couldn't help it. Daryl was his best friend, his brother in all but blood, and he was the only one in the camp that had known about Daryl and Jesus' relationship. To hear the man that he looked up to sound so broken as he took hit after hit for their family…it hurt.

It hurt worse than anything he'd ever felt.

The sickening squelch of Negan's bat hitting Daryl's flesh melded with the screams ringing in his ears and he whimpered, holding his hands over his ears as if to block it all out.

Maggie.

Maggie would make it better.

He looked beside him where his wife should be and froze in confusion.

This wasn't their bed.

Their bed didn't have red and black deadpool sheets. Their _room_ wasn't covered in band posters and movie posters. But his room was. His room from _before._

His breathing sped up and he removed his hands from his ears to grip the sheets on his bed as if they would ground him, dark eyes wide in panic.

Where was he?

 _ **When**_ was he?

And where was his wife?

His family?

 **TBC…**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

It was the singing that woke her.

The soft words flitted through the air in a warm familiar voice she hadn't heard in years. Another voice joined it higher in pitch but no less familiar and she felt her heart leap into her throat.

Her mama and Beth.

Both women had been dead for a while, the former much longer than the latter, but she'd never forgotten the way their voices harmonized when they sang together. Hearing them again should've warmed her…yet it only sent chills down her spine.

Those chills worsened as she looked around her.

Warm pale yellow walls covered in horse posters and paintings she'd done as a teen surrounded her, and she knew without looking that should she stand there would be carpet the color of dark chocolate beneath her feet. A desk sat in the corner, holding a _working_ desktop and an alarm clock, curtains pulled back to reveal the yard below.

Her childhood home.

The family farm.

What the hell was going on?

Looking down at her arms with morbid fascination, she noticed with some relief that her body was the same as it had been before she'd awakened, the slight swell of her stomach barely noticeable beneath her husband's striped flannel.

She froze.

Glenn.

What if she was the only one sent back?

What if her husband was no longer hers?

They had barely talked about their lives before the apocalypse, but from their years together she knew that any woman would be lucky to have her man. He was kind and caring, even when the others in their family started losing their way, and just the right side of protective when the situation called for it.

Mint green eyes harden, lips pursing as she squashed the feelings of doubt and anguish rising in her.

She would leave this room and she would face her family.

Then, she was going to find her husband, regardless of what she would felt.

It was the only way she would be able to accept that this was real.

* * *

Hershel could tell the moment he saw her that something was wrong.

She'd come down much later than she normally did and once she'd entered the dining room to join the rest of them for breakfast…she froze.

Anguish, deep and seemingly soul crushing, flashed through her eyes and afterwards she'd lowered her head, almost unable to look at them. Her shoulders were tensed, her eyes gleaming with tears and he found himself aching for whatever had caused that expression on her face.

It was enough for him to completely disregard the not-so subtle changes in her and the fact that she seemed to have aged a few years over night.

"Maggie?"

She started in her seat, pausing in her meal and yet…she didn't look up. Instead she stared down at her plate as if it held all the answers she looked for in life, biting her lip so hard that it started to bleed.

Beside him, Anne frowned deeply at their eldest, worry lining her brow, but before she could say anything there was a knock on the door.

Maggie was on her feet in an instant, brandishing a knife from her belt as if it were something she did every day, and moving with a silent predator gait toward their front door. He shared a bewildered look with everyone else, and followed her; curious about what had caused such a change in his daughter.

She didn't so much as glance at them.

Instead she opened the door…and dropped the knife.

"Glenn?" She whispered hoarsely, voice full of hope and pain, and other emotions that he couldn't name. Lean muscled arms wrapped around the girl and they were finally able to get a glimpse of the newcomer.

He was a young Asian man, no older than 25, with a lithe muscular build and warm dark eyes, dark hair falling into his eyes messily. He looked friendly but there was an air around him that made it obvious he was dangerous.

The man pulled away and kissed her chastely before looking at them. His eyes widened and he looked back at Maggie with a strange look.

"Do you think everyone made it?"

Maggie bit her lip. "We'd have to find Rick and Carl. They'd know for sure."

"What the hell is going on?" Shawn butted in scowling and the couple turned to him. Then 'Glenn' smiled childishly.

"Hey, sorry bout that. I'm Glenn, Maggie's husband."

Hershel's eyes widened as did everyone else's, while Maggie smacked her …husband's arm lightly.

"Somehow, I have a feeling this is a long story." Anne commented faintly and the couple sighed.

"You have no idea."

* * *

Adrian sighed softly as he entered his apartment to find his boyfriend(?) pacing the floor restlessly, the younger man's pale blue eyes clouded in thought. His hair was down, framing his face, and he'd shaved his beard into a neat goatee, making his seem entirely different from the man he'd been when they'd woke. Agitation was clear in his every move, his shoulders tense and huddled, lips pursed together.

"Paul?"

His lover started, reaching for the knife strapped to his belt, before he caught up to his senses.

"Adrian." He greeted with a sigh, and the blonde frowned.

"What's wrong?"

Paul stared at him blandly, and then shook his head.

"I've spent all day telling myself that this isn't real…that he must've regressed during the night and this is my mind's way of coping, but every time I start to believe it…I realize that if it was true he'd be here…but he isn't."

Adrian's heart clenched.

While he wasn't upset that Paul had moved on in the future after his death, he couldn't help but be jealous of the man that had taken his place. For him, it was only yesterday that he'd been Paul's world, that they had been each other's world, and waking up to find his boyfriend three years older and head over heels for someone else, it hurt. Even still, he couldn't fault the man for falling for his boyfriend. Paul was kind, and warm and loving, and if things had gone the way he suspected they had, that was exactly what people needed. However, he couldn't help but wonder what his lover's new beau was like.

"Tell me about him?" He asked, repeating his request from that morning and Paul swallowed thickly, obviously debating about it.

"He's fragile. Looking at him, you wouldn't be able to tell, but he's been hurt so many times, even by those he called family, and yet he still does everything he can to protect them. Yesterday…he was hurt, nearly killed. When I fell asleep, there was only a fifty percent chance he'd make it through the night."

The blonde gasped, covering his mouth with his hands as he saw the pain in his boyfriend's eyes. The man looked wrecked, his mask falling for the first time in years and he felt his resolve harden.

He would help him find this man if it was the last thing he'd do. Even if it meant he had to give up his lover, he'd rather see him happy than see him as devastated as he was now.

"One of my patient's woke from a three week coma today." He began, and Paul looked up confused, wondering why he'd changed the subject. "He changed overnight too, and so did his son." He paused and took a deep breath. "They looked around three years older, and so weary, and it reminded me of you. It made me wonder if maybe you were connected somehow."

The other frowned. "It's possible. What are their names?"

"Rick and Carl Grimes."

 **TBC…**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

" _One of my patients woke from a three-week coma today." He began, and Paul looked up confused, wondering why he'd changed the subject. "He changed overnight too, and so did his son." He paused and took a deep breath. "They looked around three years older, and so weary, and it reminded me of you. It made me wonder if maybe you were connected somehow."_

 _The other frowned. "It's possible. What are their names?"_

" _Rick and Carl Grimes."_

* * *

Paul froze.

Rick was here?

How was this possible? Did that mean that there was a possibility that Daryl had made it as well?

What was he going to do?

When he'd asked Adrian for the name of his patient, Rick's name had been the last one he'd expected, even after the blonde had mentioned his patient's son. Now he had a possible connection to Rick, to _Daryl_ and it felt like something was finally going right.

"You know them?" Adrian guessed and he nodded wordlessly, shock still coursing through him.

"D-do you have a way to contact them?"

"Paul- "

"Please." The other frowned at him, then sighed seeing the desperation in his gaze and hearing it in his voice.

"Is this about your- him?"

"Rick is his brother, for the most part. He can tell me how to find him."

Hurt flashed in the blonde's eyes and he looked away. "Alright. I'll call his family and have them meet us."

Paul smiled sadly. "Thank you. And Andy for what it's worth…I'm sorry."

Adrian nodded.

"I know."

* * *

They needed to be ready.

It ran like a mantra through Daryl's head as carved bolt after bolt for his crossbow, his father and Merle going for store to store and buying as much ammo and food as they could.

They weren't a rich family, not by any means, but they knew how to haggle prices and find those underground stores that would give them anything for the right price. Judith was watching the Tv, fascinated by the device in a way that made his gut clench.

Just another thing the apocalypse had taken from them. Even Carl, who had known what a television was before the virus struck, had forgotten the form of entertainment after everything that had happened, staring at the ones they came across on runs with a curiosity most kids his age never had.

He shook his head, wincing as the scars on his face pulled.

Seeing the marks in the mirror only hours after arriving in the past had left him feeling raw and broken. He could remember every hit, every sickening crunch as the bat tore into his skin and Negan leered down at him. Every cry and scream that left his family as they begged for mercy on his behalf and the warmth of Paul's arms as the man carried him away from his would-be death. He could remember the pain that had wracked him as the doctors fought to save his life and wanting to let go just to escape it. But he'd held on.

For Judith. For Carl and Maggie. Glenn, Carol…Rick.

Jesus.

He hadn't let go.

He didn't know whether he regretted it or not, yet.

A hand landed on his arm and he jolted, lips curling into a snarl until he saw his little Asskicker standing there with a frown on her face.

"'Ryl, did Daddy come too?"

He frowned, then remembered that Rick had lived in King's county before then. As the deputy, his number would be listed in the phone book.

But Rick was in coma at this time…wasn't he?

His eyes narrowed in thought.

He really didn't want to talk to Lori…or Shane.

Hopefully Carl would pick up instead, the kid was curious enough.

Deciding that it was worth it to reunite Judith with her family, even though something in him snarled at the thought (She was **his child** , Damnit), he grabbed the phone book from the table and started to thumb through the pages.

Finding the man' number, he dialed it on the landline beside his chair and hoped for the best.

It rang once.

Then twice.

Then… "Hello"

The voice was low, but not Rick's deep baritone. Instead, it sounded more like,

"Carl?"

"Daryl?!"

* * *

Rick's head shot up as his brother's name escaped his son's lips, the relief in the teen's voice palpable. He'd gotten the doctor to agree to let him go home, despite just waking from a coma by threatening to sign himself out AMA. The doctor hadn't been happy about it, but had understood that the wound was no longer there, having technically healed three years previous.

Plus, he'd had no idea how he would explain Rick's sudden aging to the others.

Once arriving home, it had taken everything in him not to snap at his ex-wife and "best friend", who had tried to coddle him and coax answers from him that he didn't want to give them. Instead he'd ignored him and started trying to figure out whether _his_ family had made it to the past with him, or if it was just him and Carl. So far, he'd had no luck…but now., now he knew he wasn't alone.

How else would Daryl know to call his home?

He rushed to Carl's side, listening as the teen inquired about Judith and Daryl's assurances that she was safe. He listened as Daryl informed him that he'd him, Merle, and their father had started to prepare for the upcoming events, and were stockpiling as much as they could. He had to interrupt.

"How are you? Are you healing alright?" He asked and the other end of the line went silent for a moment.

"I'm fine." The hunter finally answered, blatantly lying and Rick scowled.

"You're lying, but I won't push for now. When are you coming?"

"What?"

"We need to stick together. When are you coming?"

He could practically see the other man's scowl.

"I gotta convince Pa and Merle…Friday. We'll be there Friday."

Rick smirked. "Good."

"Fuck you."

Carl snorted. "See ya soon Daryl."

"Later, Kid."

Judith's voice sounded after his. "Bye Carl. Bye daddy."

Rick's heart clenched. She was okay. His baby girl was alright.

"Bye, sweetheart. See you soon. We love you."

She giggled. "Love you too, daddy."

The call ended and something in Rick seemed so much lighter.

His family had followed him.

All of them.

He just had to find them, only then could he breathe easy again.

Unbeknownst to him, however, Lori stood upstairs holding the other house phone to her ear, her heart breaking as she realized that whatever was happening…she wasn't a part of it. Her family had a whole other life that she wasn't part of…and she refused to allow it any longer.

She couldn't afford to.

The phone rang again and she answered it, revealing her presence to her son and her husband.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Mrs. Grimes. It's Dr. Richards, your husband's doctor."

"Adrian?"

"Yes, remember how I told you my lover was in the same situation as your husband and your son…it seems that they know each other."

She could almost see Rick frown into the downstairs house phone.

"What's his name?" The man asked, shocking the young doctor who made a startled sound before answering.

"Paul, Paul Rovia. He said you know him better as- "

"Jesus."

 **TBC…**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

" _Paul, Paul Rovia. He said you know him better as- "_

" _Jesus."_

Something in Paul relaxed at the sound of the Alexandrian's voice, his heart slowing from the rapid staccato it had been playing in his chest. While he wasn't close to the man, Daryl was and that was more than enough for him at the moment.

"What's happened? Have you found Daryl?"

Rick chuckled, the first genuinely amused sound he'd ever heard from the man, and he noticed Adrian smiling slightly in the corner of his eye.

"Daryl is fine. I just spoke to him. As for what happened…what's the last thing you remember."

Flashes of Daryl's bloodied form appeared in his mind eye, his screams echoing in his ears and he swallowed.

"Negan…our talk." He answered softly and he could almost see the man nodding as a quiet hum left him.

"As far as I know, we've gone back in time to just a few months before everything begins. If I'm correct, everyone that was present at the time of Daryl's attack have been sent back…but that's just a theory. We have no way of proving it until we find the others. In the meantime, prepare."

Jesus nodded, letting out a shuddery breath.

This was actually happening.

They were really in the past.

Holy Shit.

Another chuckle from Rick made him realize he'd said the last line out loud and he flushed slightly while Adrian snorted.

"Calm down," The former admonished gently. "Tell you what, we're gathering at my house. Grab what you need, and anything you can scrounge up and head my way." His voice became sly and mischievous. "Daryl is coming."

He smirked. Too easy.

"Not yet but he will be." He replied, snickering when he heard twin sounds of disgust from both Rick and Carl.

Exchanging a few more pleasantries, he quickly jotted down the address they gave him and hung up. When he finished, Adrian finally spoke up.

"Are we going?"

Paul nodded, agitation evident in his every move.

Now that the call was over, he seemed tense, ready for anything and it was slightly disconcerting to know that this was all over people he'd never met. Generally, their friend ran in the same circles and those that didn't they knew from dinners and such but these people, they were practically strangers. On top of that, it made Adrian's heart skip a nervous beat to know that in only three days he'd be meeting the man that had replaced him.

He couldn't help but wonder what the man was like…and what he'd say or do when they met.

* * *

It was the bat that set him off.

His father had come in from his day in town holding a pack of supplies and talking about one thing or another but as soon as his gaze saw the object in his father's other hand his mind had come to a halt.

It was long and sleek, the polished wood gleaming in the low light of their home and his skin started to crawl. The scars on his face and his shoulders ached in remembrance even as he noticed the lack of barbed wire wrapped around it. His breath shortened, his lungs constricting and he didn't even notice the soft whimpers leaving his throat. All he could hear is Negan's low taunts and the sickening squelch of the bat striking him over and over.

 _The man reached out, calloused fingers brushing the burning cuts with a child-like curiosity before he sighed in mock pity._

" _What a shame, to have to mar such a pretty face. You don't mind, right?" He taunted and he glared at him, crying out when the man brought Lucille down once more and struck his shoulder._

He flinched, curling in on himself. The memories overtaking him.

" _Watch yourself, beautiful. Anymore dirty looks and I'll rip those pretty blue eyes right outta your head and feed them to the little cyclops over there, understood?"_

A hand landed on his shoulder and he jerked.

 _Blow after blow rained down over him, the barbs cutting into his skin like thousands of little knives._

Again and again and _again_.

He screamed tasting copper on his tongue and dark spots danced in his vision.

It's not real. It can't be real.

He tried to force himself to breathe but his lungs couldn't seem to expand and when the darkness overtook him, he felt nothing but relief.

* * *

Will Dixon stared at the unconscious body of his youngest son, pale faced wondering what the _**hell**_ had happened to the boy in that future of his. Nothing the other had told them could account for his reaction to the bat, which he'd made Merle burn as soon as Daryl had screamed.

That sound was haunting and he knew that he would never sleep peacefully again with that sound still ringing in his ears.

Someone had hurt his boy and the Kid had kept it from them. In another time, he'd take his belt to the boy then kill the bastard that hurt him, but right now he couldn't bring himself to do it.

His son was damaged and he didn't know how to make it better. Beside him a quiet whimper sounded and he turned to see the little girl, Judith, staring at Daryl with wide wet eyes.

"Aryl, okay?"

He sighed. "I don' know, kid."

She sniffled and toddled over to the unconscious man, shaking him with one tiny hand.

"Aryl? Aryl?!"

He jolted, stormy blue eyes snapping open.

"Judy? Y' alright?"

She shook her head.

"Wanna go 'ome."

He smiled wanly, not fully recovered from his panic attack.

"I know, kid."

Will scowled. "What the hell was that? No lies, Daryl."

His son paled, eyes glazing over in fear before he shook his head.

"We're all grouping at Rick's house."

"Your leader?" Merle asked as he entered the house and Daryl nodded.

"Yeah, we're using it as a home base."

Will narrowed his eyes at his son, knowing the boy was purposely ignoring his question.

No matter, He'd ask this "Rick" character about it, but one way or another, he would find the person that broke his son and return the favor tenfold.

* * *

Lori shifted nervously where she stood with her husband, son and Shane on the front porch waiting for the rest of Rick's "time-traveling" group. After "Jesus" and "Daryl" a few others had called him expressing their joy and confusion at being in the past and she'd been forced to confront the idea that he son and her husband had lived a whole life _without_ her. Carl kept her at a distance, so different from the child she'd put to bed only a week and a half previous and her husband…he was so cold to her, as if he didn't know how to treat her half the time. He'd also revealed that he knew about her affair with Shane, something she had planned on taking to her grave. He told her about the woman he'd fallen in love with, Michonne and if she was honest, if only to herself, it hurt. It hurt so _bad._

Just a month ago, she'd had everything. A loving husband, a wonderful _innocent_ son, the perfect life. Sure, her and Rick had already been having a rocky relationship and _maybe_ she'd already been sleeping with Shane, but she hadn't let it interfere with her life. Then Rick was shot and suddenly her son is older than he should be hardened by a world that hadn't even occurred yet.

A world where she was…dead.

She swallowed thickly, giving a strained smile as Adrian's black Mazda pulled up, the young doctor exiting it with a tense if friendly smile back.

From the passenger side, another man exited, glancing around anxiously. Black cargo pants clung to a trim waist paired with a black vest and a white poet's shirt. His hair was a dark blond-ish brown and was pulled back into a low ponytail that fell below his shoulder and his eyes were a bright crystal blue. He was beautiful.

Before they could greet them, another car pulled up behind theirs, and a beautiful dark skinned woman exited, long dreadlocked hair falling to the middle of her back. She wore tight black jeans and a blue button down, a gold badge gleaming at her belt line. Shooting a quick glance in their direction she moved to the back seat and opened the door revealing a young child, her son by the looks of it. Both Carl and Rick lit up as she approached them, her dark eyes meeting Lori's doe brown ones.

"Michonne! Jesus!" Carl greeted, grinning, and for a moment, he seemed more like the child he was supposed to be and not the cold imposing stranger she and Shane had seen for the past week. Adrian waved, but "Jesus" didn't reply beyond a quick smile, his entire body practically radiating tension and she couldn't help but wonder what- _who_ he was waiting for. The woman, Michonne, smiled back pulling Carl into a one-armed hug, her other hand never letting go of the hand of the child beside her. Rick hugged her next, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Lori flinched and Shane's eyes narrowed.

"Is this Andre?" Her husband asked leaning down to look at the woman's son and Michonne nodded looking around curiously.

"Who all came back? And where's Judy?"

"Judy's fine. I talked to her a few days ago. She's with her 'Aryl, of course." He straightened, running a hand through his hair as he took in Jesus' tense frame.

"As for who came back…as far as I know, everyone who was there when Negan…"

The dark-skinned woman nodded, before looking at Lori.

"Michonne," She introduced.

"Lori Grimes," She replied stiffly. "Rick's wife."

A small smile crossed the woman's lips. "And Carl's mother. I'm aware. He's an amazing kid."

Her heart melted, even as she fought not to let it happen. She didn't want to like this woman…but she'd helped Carl and loved her family when she couldn't, so she couldn't bring herself to hate her.

"Shane Walsh." Shane introduced curtly and something sharpened in Michonne's eyes.

"I'm aware." She repeated, voice cooling. Another car pulled up, followed by two trucks.

An Asian young man exited the first with a pretty dark, haired girl, her arm curled around her abdomen protectively. Lori smiled.

Newlywed?" She asked and Michonne nodded, keen eyes focused on the last truck.

From the first truck a hulking red-haired man appeared, followed by a pretty Hispanic woman and a timid man with-

"Is that a mullet?"

Lori snorted at Shane's incredulous question, watching as all the strangers swarmed over to her husband, exchanging hugs and questions, talking so fast they didn't seem to be breathing.

Rick was their leader, she realized and like Michonne, he seemed focused on the final truck, even as he tried to calm his group.

The first person to emerge from the truck made her gasp. He was tall, with merciless blue eyes and a shaved head. His body covered in large ropey muscle that most men lost close to his age. He was watching them all with curiosity and disdain, black duffle slung over his shoulder.

The next looked very similar to the first, with his bulging muscles and shaved head, grey eyes warmer than than the others. He was smaller than his companion, but not by much and he was staring at them all with the same curiousity.

However, it was the final two people that caught everyone's attention, including Jesus'.

The first was a little girl with curly blond hair that fell loose around her tiny shoulders. She wore a pretty blue dress that matched her blue eyes perfectly and white ballet flats, her lips curled into a wide smile as she spoke animatedly with the man carrying her.

He was the slimmest of his companions, covered in lean muscle instead of bulk.

His face was marred by vicious scars, startling storm blue eyes narrowed and hidden by shoulder-length shaggy dark hair. His skin was a warm tanned color like he spent most of his time outside and stretched perfectly over his sinewy muscle even under the loose black jeans and sleeveless grey shirt he wore, a black leather vest throw over the ensemble. His body was tense and she caught his eyes flitting around him nervously, even as he nodded along to the child's words.

"Daryl!" All the newcomers yelled and their relief was almost palpable.

She raised an eyebrow when the man froze, handing the girl to a grinning Carl, who held her like it was second nature. Jesus stepped forward then paused and looked at Rick, who smiled.

'Daryl's' lip twitched and he moved away from his male companions, walking straight into her husband's arms.

Rick's smile widened even as _tears_ welled in his eyes and he wrapped his arms around the slightly taller man, hugging him tightly.

All of time-traveler smiled and Lori even saw a few of them, discreetly wiping away tears.

Who was this man?

And why were they all so emotional over his arrival?

The two broke apart and Jesus took Rick's place, but then unlike Rick, he kissed the man chastely on the lips and wound their fingers together.

Ah, that explains why Jesus was so tense.

A cough broke them up and they all looked at Shane.

"Rick, who the hell are these people? And what the _fuck_ is going on?"

"Daryl," Growled the eldest of Daryl's companions. "Wanna explain what the _fuck_ that was, son?"

 **TBC…**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

" _Rick, who the hell are these people? And what the_ _ **fuck**_ _is going on?"_

" _Daryl," Growled the eldest of Daryl's companions. "Wanna explain what the_ _ **fuck**_ _that was, son?"_

Adrian watched as the Jesus' new beau flinched at his eldest companion's question, hand tightening its grip on the other male's hand.

Whatever he'd expected when it came to the man that stole his lover's heart, it hadn't been this. The man was beautiful in roughish sort of way, with his long hair and piercing grey-blue eyes. The scars across his face and the side of his throat told of suffering, like someone had taken barbed wire and hit him with it repeatedly. His body was slim but well-muscled, his arms bulkier than the rest of him, telling of manual labor and he moved like he expected everyone to ignore him.

He seemed more like the type to hit someone like Paul than date him and yet looking at them, they fit so well together. He smirked slightly. It helped that those jeans showed off his toned legs and a very nicely shaped ass.

Paul's eyes narrowed at the man, icing over in a way he'd never seen them.

"Who're you?"

Daryl, if he remembered correctly, stiffened even more, placing a placating hand on the smaller man's arm.

"Pa, I-"

"I didn't raise you to be a fucking faggot!"

The younger flinched again and Adrian noticed all of the other "time-travelers" move subtly, each of them ready to attack the man's father if he so much as stepped in his direction.

Paul shifted until the taller man was slightly behind him, glaring at the angry behemoth before him like it was a disobedient dog.

"Leave him alone."

The man snarled wordlessly at him then glared at, who Adrian assumed was his son.

"Gonna hide behind yer boyfriend or face me like a fucking man, boy!"

Daryl's hands clenched and he gently pushed Paul aside, quieting the smaller male's protests with a look in a way he, himself had never quite managed.

"I'm nobody's bitch." He growled and there was something feral in his voice. "I love you, you're kin, but I _will_ kill you if I have to."

Rick stepped forward, placing a hand on the tense man's shoulder and silencing the man's father with a dark glare.

"Mr. Dixon. In the times that are coming resources will become scarce. There are no police, no laws, just you and your own human nature. Accidents can happen, resources can run out and no one will look twice at the corpse left behind, unless it's to _put you down._ My brother loves you, you're his family. That is the only reason you are here right now. If another derogatory word comes out of your mouth," A dangerous smile played at the corner of the officer's lips, "I'm not the only person with a gun that you have to look out for. Understood?"

Dixon Sr. didn't respond for a minute and Adrian was slightly concerned that he was about to bear witness to a murder. Then his scowl lightened and he smirked, impressed.

"Well, Officer Friendly. You've got balls, I'll give you that. Alright, I'll let the boy have his fun," his smirk sharpened into something deadly. "Now tell me who hurt my boy."

Rick's entire group flinched at the question and Paul grabbed Daryl's hand tightly.

Lori stepped forward when no one spoke, smiling tightly.

"How about we head inside."

* * *

Daryl was the first to speak once they were inside.

"Where's Aaron and Sasha?"

"Sasha is with her brother. Unfortunately, she has decided to wait to join us. We're gonna swing by the prison after everything starts and get them. Aaron is in Virginia, close to where he and Eric were in Alexandria."

The hunter nodded then sighed as he noted that all the non-time travelers were staring at him.

He hated being the center of attention, especially after what had happened last time.

Luckily, it didn't last long because Walsh finally snapped.

"What the hell is going on, Rick? Who are these people?"

Rick frowned. "We were sent back. That illness that they just discovered, the new one that makes people act cannibalistic, it ended the world. I was shot, and for the beginning of it I lay in a coma."

"The coma you just came out of?" The blond doctor, asked and Daryl's eyes narrowed when he saw the man shoot a strange glance at him and Paul, possessiveness sparking in his chest.

The man had been eying his ninja since they'd entered the house, longing and something else lingering in his eyes and with every passing moment Daryl found himself wanting to hit the man in the face so he'd look away. Granted he was aware that the man was Paul's ex, the person his lover had nearly married before the end of the world, but it didn't make it better. If anything, he felt worse, the scar marring his face making him want to look away rather than look into the gorgeous face of the man across from him.

Just another reminder of his…imperfection.

His lips curled and he looked away before anyone could see the feral snarl that took over his features.

"Hey," Paul whispered as Rick continued to fill the others in one everything, one hand resting on his thigh as he started. His face calmed and he turned back to his lover, who's blue eyes softened as they met his.

"Everything okay?"

"I'm fine."

The ninja pursed his lips. "Don't lie to me."

"I _said_ I'm fine." He repeated and the younger man sighed.

"I'm not gonna leave if that's what you're worried about."

He said nothing, and Paul shook his head with a sad smile.

"One day, I'm gonna make you believe I love you too much to leave." He whispered turning back to the conversation taking place around them.

Daryl blushed lightly and looked away, letting his hair shield his face.

He could only hope they'd live to see that one day.

* * *

Merle bit back a smile as he watched his brother interact with the hippy, noting how the younger Dixon relaxed in the man's presence.

He hadn't see Daryl that relaxed since this whole time-travel thing had started, especially not after the thing with the bat.

He frowned.

Rick, the leader of the time-travelers, had explained the whole apocalypse thing to him but he couldn't figure out what this had to do with Daryl's reaction to the bat.

The whole tale seemed fantastical at best, but it explained the comradery and movement of the group so well. Whenever one of the "outsiders" mover, the entire group watched their movements with a wary tension as if they were waiting for them to attack. It was something he'd remembered seeing in the older veteran when he was in army. Whenever the time-travelers moved, they moved in pairs, but never as couples, and they flowed together like a team that had been together for years no matter who in their group they were paired with.

He also noticed that for whatever reason, the entire group was extra protective over his baby brother. This meant that whatever had led to their presence in the past it had to do with Daryl…and he wanted to know what it was.

"Daryl."

His brother looked up and he asked the only question he knew would get him an answer.

"How'd you get those scars on your face."

The entire group paled and his brother's lover tightened his grip on the hunter's hand.

When he spoke, it was in a hoarse, shattered whisper. It was only one word, a name, but it was spoken with so much fear and hatred that every non-time traveler in the room recoiled.

"Negan."

 **TBC…**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine  
**

" _How'd you get those scars on your face?"_

 _The entire group paled and his brother's lover tightened his grip on the hunter's hand._

 _When he spoke, it was in a hoarse, shattered whisper. It was only one word, a name, but it was spoken with so much fear and hatred that every non-time traveler in the room recoiled._

" _Negan."_

As one the time-travelers in the room snarled at the name, and Adrian stared at Paul stunned at the vicious look on his face. In the entire time he'd known the other man he'd never seen such a look on his face and he was torn between flinching away from him or hugging him to wipe it away.

Daryl's father frowned.

"Negan?"

Rick held up a hand. "Carl, take Judy upstairs. Judy, don't come back down here until, your Daryl comes to get you okay. The grown-ups are gonna talk." The little girl scowled, looking eerily similar to Paul's lover.

"Wanna stay wit' 'Aryl."

All the time-travelers barring the man in question snickered.

"Uh-oh, Rick. She's got Daryl's 'you-can't-make-me' face on." The young Asian man said snickering and the deputy sighed looking over at Daryl, who smirked.

A silent conversation passed between the two, before the scarred man rolled his eyes and barked out a laugh.

"C'mon, Lil Asskicker. Let's go upstairs. I'll show ya how to fletch the bolts I made."

Judy beamed, and Adrian was slightly horrified that they all seemed okay with the two-year-old being allowed to play with the weapon so early. Evidently, Lori shared the same sentiment because she opened her mouth to protest only for Rick to cut her off before she could speak.

"Don't." He said curtly, and his companions nodded.

"There are many things you can criticize Daryl about but not Judy. _Never_ Judy. She's more his child than mine and I'm her father. He's only showing her right now, she's not allowed to learn until she's five, that was the agreement."

Dixon Sr. nodded having done the same with his sons when they were younger. Instead he focused on Daryl's answer to Merle's question.

"Who is Negan?" He asked, bringing the conversation back on track. "And what did he do to my son?"

Paul sighed. "Like we said earlier, in our world there is now police, no law. You scavenge, you hunt, and you survive. Groups last longer and most of the time the bigger groups tried to either absorb the smaller ones or kill them for their resources. Rick and his group we're in charge of a compound called Alexandria, they didn't cause trouble and kept to themselves. I lived in a compound a small way away called The Hilltop. Well, I say lived there, but I was gone more than I was there. Anyways, we were being forced to work for a group called the Saviors, Negan was their leader. The saviors were the biggest group in the area we were in, over five hundred men strong and Negan is a fucking sociopath. He doesn't care who he hurts or how as long as they pander to his illusions of grandeur."

He paused and smiled. "Anyways, me, Rick and Daryl all met while scavenging in the same area. I stole their truck, leading to one of the most comical chases I've ever been involved in. And on top of that, neither of our groups got to leave with the truck because it sunk in the lake… after knocking me out with the door. I believe Daryl wanted to tie me up and leave me in a tree?"

Rick snorted. "He told you that?"

Paul nodded. "Said at the time since I was acting like a damn monkey with all my "fancy jumpin' around", I could live in a tree like one. Anyways, after a series of events, I managed to convince Rick and his group to help me take out the Saviors, especially after they'd already killed some of them. We miscalculated and attacked what we thought was their compound but it was just an outpost. Negan cornered Rick's group a short while later, while they were trying to get to hilltop to help Maggie."

He stopped closing his eyes as his mind was bombarded with the sounds of Daryl's screams, the coppery scent of his blood invading his nose and coating his throat until it felt like it was choking him. Thankfully, Rick took over the explanation, rage lowering his voice until it made even Dixon Sr.'s blood chill.

"They captured us and forced us to our knees. Made it a game, picking which one of us would be _punished_ for the sins of the group. Daryl was chosen, and Negan beat him within an inch of his _life_ with that goddamn bat! And I plan to return the favor if we ever meet again. I'm going to crush his fucking skull with it and see how he likes it." He snarled and Adrian stepped back when all the other time-travelers' eyes flashed with grim satisfaction. Dixon Sr.'s mercury eyes darkened as did his older son's both of their teeth bared in a vicious lupine expression.

"We'll help." The two promised and the doctor shuddered, sharing a glance with Lori and Shane. Somehow, they had a feeling that they'd just stepped into something there was absolutely no getting out of.

And they had no idea if that was a good thing or not.

 ***/***

Shane wasn't sure what to think.

He'd imagined multiple different scenarios of what would happen if- when Rick woke from his coma but this hadn't been one of them.

He'd imagined him never waking, being on life support until they were forced to take him off.

Imagined him waking and being perfectly fine other than mild weakness and exhaustion from his body healing itself, ignorant of his and Lori's affair but alive and happy.

Imagined him waking and being furious about his and Lori's affair, but unwilling to leave his wife because of their son.

Time-travel had never crossed his mind.

Listening to the fantastical tale woven first by Rick then by the long-haired kid Carl had called "Jesus", he felt everything he knew being turned on its head. Zombies, time travel, the apocalypse, it all sounded like something from a bad sci-fi horror flick and yet the emotion in their eyes, the fluidity of their movements said otherwise.

Just two weeks ago, Rick, Carl and Lori had been his only family, his parents long dead, and now it was like overnight both his nephew and his brother had gained a whole new family. One that he wasn't a part of, if the guarded looks being sent his way were anything to go by. The darkest of those looks came from the scar-faced hick and the woman with dreads, but he'd have to be blind to see that both the Asian man and his wife were sending him odd looks as well. They were wary of him, and he wanted to know why, but he had a feeling he wouldn't be able to handle anymore life-changing discoveries.

All the same, it nagged in his mind, as well as the fact that the little girl, Judy looked like a toddler version of his mother with a few changes, instead of like Rick, who claimed to be her father.

It was painting a picture he dreaded to recognize and he knew soon he would have to talk to Rick about it. Carl glanced at him, single eye dark and suspicious, the other hidden beneath the bandages he'd yet to take off.

Yeah, him and Rick needed to talk very soon.

 ***/***

"Its been two weeks since we arrived in the past. That gives us more or less a month to get everything we need and start training them. Any ideas?"

Three hours had passed since their non-time traveling members had gone to bed, and since they'd all snuck downstairs into the kitchen to start planning.

"Pa, Merle, an' I brought guns, knives, food, and medical supplies. Got ten duffels in the truck besides our clothes an shit. And the one Pa had earlier."

Rick nodded. "I've gotten some weapons as well, and some dry foods. All of it is in the family SUV and my personal car."

"Daddy said we could stay on the farm, at least until things start. Its isolated and we don't have to worry about complaints for the gunfire and noise. Plus, theres space for Daryl to hunt and us to train, while teaching them what they need to survive this time. Me and glen bought tents, between the two of us we bought about five of them."

"I have six as well." Michonne added.

"And I brought about eight." Abraham said frowning. "So that takes care of sleepin' arrangements and weapons. What are y'all planning on doing in the long run?"

Rick pursed his lips. Of the places, they'd called home in the past few years the prison was the most secure. Alexandria was a close second but he didn't want to force his family to travel all the way to Virginia again. In addition, the prison was closer to resources like the river and good farmland, and had enough forestry that they'd be able to get fresh meat when needed. He'd also rather face the governor again that be at Negan's mercy.

"The prison." He replied and a small smile crossed Daryl's face as he pulled three maps from his vest pocket. He placed on the table, his messy scrawl in the corner labelling it as a map to the prison, black markings marking areas they'd gone through the first time around, including the CDC.

"Made on for Alexandria, the prison, and Terminus. Wasn't sure which you'd wanna head to."

"Why not Alexandria?" Abraham asked, intrigued. He, like most of their group, had no doubt Daryl was an intelligent man, but it was rare for the hunter to show it in this manner. He preferred to plan as he went than sit through long sessions of planning for things when it always went to shit anyways. However, the other was patient when the situation called for it and this was just an example of how that patience paid off in spades when he put his mind to it.

The map was hand drawn and comprehensive, the hunter's spidery handwriting noting anything of significance along all their trails.

"Negan. However, our arrival in Alexandria led to a lot of conflict that could've been avoided. In addition, the prison is more secure and had more resources. I plane to reinforce the fencing as soon as its ours. With all of us working together it shouldn't take more than a week to reinforce it."

"When can we head to the farm?" Michonne asked.

"Tomorrow, sound alright?"

They all nodded and Rick smiled warmly at them.

"Good. Go rest. Daryl, you and I have first watch."

His brother nodded, refolding the map and placing it back in his vest with the others.

The rest of them said good night, each of them happy with the warmth flooding them at the sight of their family safe and nearly whole again. They just had to find a way to get their missing members and their family would be whole.

And this time they planned to keep it that way, whether it was facing the walkers or facing down sociopaths like _Negan._

 **TBC…**

 **A/N: Should Negan be brought back in time too? I'm seriously thinking about it, but…meh?**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: By popular demand, Negan will NOT be brought back in time. He may, however, make an appearance later on in the story. Now onto the farm!**

 **Chapter Ten**

" _When can we head to the farm?" Michonne asked._

" _Tomorrow, sound alright?"_

 _They all nodded and Rick smiled warmly at them._

" _Good. Go rest. Daryl, you and I have first watch."_

 _His brother nodded, refolding the map and placing it back in his vest with the others._

 _The rest of them said good night, each of them happy with the warmth flooding them at the sight of their family safe and nearly whole again. They just had to find a way to get their missing members and their family would be whole._

 _And this time they planned to keep it that way, whether it was facing the walkers or facing down sociopaths like_ **Negan** _._

* * *

"Judy is mine isn't she."

Rick stiffened at Shane's question, his cerulean eyes flashing before they met the dark gaze of the older man.

"Yes."

He nodded, then looked down. "So, I'm guessing you know about me and Lori?"

His brother stared at him, then his lips twisted into a wry grin. "Yes. Found out two weeks after I woke from my coma the first time. You tried to kill me to keep her and Carl." The smile darkened into something predatory and dangerous.

"I killed you instead."

Shane flinched, staring at him wide-eyed.

When he'd woken that morning the question of Judith Grimes parentage had been at the top of his mind. He'd thought that maybe he'd died saving Lori and Carl or something equally noble, but to learn that he'd tried to kill his best friend, his brother. That he'd tried to take Rick's family, _knowing_ how possessive the other man was over those he considered his.

Future him was fucking insane.

No wonder Rick's group had been side-eyeing him the way they had.

The younger man had always been the possessive sort and had never made any effort to hide it. Most people were fooled by his genial smile and all-around friendly demeanor, but Shane had known him since they were children and if Rick considered you _his_ , then you were. No debate.

Hell, it had been a risk, sleeping with Lori, even more so when he started to do "father-son" activities with Carl.

Knowing now, that his affair with Lori had ultimately led to his death, it hurt.

"I wouldn't-"

"No," a rough voice cut in, and he turned to see the scar faced hick standing behind them in the doorway, cyan eyes harsh as they met his. Thick arms were crossed across his chest, his hair hiding most of his face.

"Ya won't."

Shane scowled. "This is a private conversation."

Those eyes never left his. "Not if we c'n all hear it. I repeat, you. Won't. Do what ya want wit' Queenie in there, but that lil girl is off limits. Judith ain't yours. She's _mine_."

"Daryl," Rick interrupted and the man rolled his eyes with a sigh.

"And Rick's on 'ccasion."

Expecting his brother's possessiveness to rear its head, Shane glanced at him only for the curly haired man to snort and nod.

"What ya doing out here?"

"Michonne made breakfast. Tol' me to come get y'all and for you to stop tryna assert yer dominance."

Rick blinked. "What?"

Daryl shrugged.

"We needa eat. Trip to the farm and settin' up is gonna take most of the day."

Shane frowned. "What trip?"

The man glanced at him, as if he were something particularly unpleasant, then turned and walked back into the house.

Rick shook his head fondly, and made to follow him, but Shane scowled and grabbed his arm.

"Rick," His brother turned. "What trip?"

"Tell you and the others inside."

He wanted to protest but Rick was already walking back into the house. With little choice, he followed the younger man inside, freezing when he saw nearly everyone was scattered around the living room. The only ones missing were the dread-haired woman, and Lori, who he could hear in the kitchen. His eyes sought out Judith, finding her in Carl's lap, dozing as the teen talked to the hick's boyfriend. The asian kid and his wife sat with them, obviously very wrapped up in the conversation, even though they all glanced over at Daryl every few minutes or so.

Said hunter moved to sit beside his brother and father, who were watching him with concern hidden in their otherwise harsh gazes.

"Everyone, can I have your attention please?"

The group fell silent, giving the slim man their attention and he smiled.

"So last night, me and the others went over the resources we currently have as well as possible settling plans. We've decided that right now our best chances would be to get out of the city, especially since some of us won't be able to hide our more obvious changes." The time travelers snorted as one.

"Maggie's father, Hershel, owns a farm outside of Atlanta, where we can settle until the outbreak begins and the worst of it blows over. Once we're there, we'll talk about possible long term solutions, but keep in mind that we already have a place in mind."

Dixon Sr. rolled his eyes, glaring at Rick. "So what? We're s'pposed to jus' let y'all make all the decisions for us?"

"Ricktatorship." Carl coughed and several of the other snickered, the youngest Dixon included.

Shane nodded. "Hate to agree with him, but he's right, Rick. Y'all can't just decide everything and expect us to just follow along."

Cerulean eyes stared back at him, harder than he'd ever seen them, with a feral edge that made him want to cringe.

"Don't expect you to. But right now? You have no idea what's coming. What's starting _as we speak_. The terror that will grip you when you wake up _every morning_ wondering what friend, what brother, sister, _son_ you'll lose that day." The older man swallowed, the hairs on the back of his neck rising even as though Rick's voice never rose.

"Until you've seen it. Until you've learned how to fight it and _survive it_ , shut up. And do what you're told." He turned back to the others. "We leave in two hours. Pack everything we might need."

Both of the elder Dixons looked ready to protest, then they took one look at the scars marring the face of their youngest and their gazes hardened, protests dying on their lips.

Shane just stared.

He'd known this Rick wasn't the same, but somehow he'd only just figured out that he was only seeing a glimpse of how much.

* * *

Seeing the farm again was bittersweet.

With his good memories of the place long outweighed by the bad, he was finding it hard keep the hairs at the back of his neck from standing up when it came into view.

He'd had so many failures here, too many.

Sophia had died, had been in that damn barn for weeks even as he'd scoured the forest for her and he had never seen any different.

Carl, he'd first taught the kid to shoot here only for the brat to almost die trying to bait walkers and prove to them that he wasn't a kid.

Beth.

His breath caught in his throat as he took in the tiny form of the girl standing beside her father, blue eyes wide as they watched their group approach.

He'd failed to save her.

It had haunted him for weeks, seeing the grief and pain in Maggie's face from losing her last family member, a pain he hadn't wanted to inflict upon anyone after losing Merle.

A pain he'd suffered when he'd watched the little spitfire of a girl take a bullet through the skull.

She was his little sister, someone he'd vowed to protect and reunite with her elder sister, and he'd failed to do so.

He'd never forgive himself...but he would do better this time.

Determination flared in him, and he pursed his lips.

This time, he'd be ready.

* * *

World weary.

If there was any other way to describe the people standing before him, Hershel Greene would eat his own hand.

Most of them seemed worn, rough edges peeking out from behind faint smiles, wary gazes scanning their surroundings as if they expected an attack.

Even his eldest was doing it, lending credence to the story she and her husband had told him a few weeks early.

Their stories had been heart wrenching, but detailed enough for him to pick out which of the group before him had traveled back and those like himself who'd woke and found themselves with family members they recognized but didn't.

He felt for them all.

The leader, Rick, he remembered stepped forward shadowed by a man that could only be Daryl, for his scarred face was near hidden by too long hair, gaze piercing him from behind the veil of mahogany bangs.

"Thank you for letting us stay here, Mr. Greene. It means alot to us."

Hershel smiled. "It's no problem, Rick. Now why don't we all come inside and introduce ourselves."

 **TBC...**


End file.
